Crossed Paths
by jadedcynic
Summary: Casey and Ellie have a moment. It's more than he expected and all he could hope for. Fluffy one-shot. First in the "Moments" series.


If there was one thing John Casey didn't handle well, it was inactivity. Boredom. Sitting around and doing nothing. He was a well-trained machine used to action and constant movement, constant alertness.

He hated days off.

Since he did have them from time to time, he tried to find something to fill them with that didn't drive him crazy. Therefore, he went nowhere near Bartowski and his annoying little butt barnacle, Grimes.

Today was one of those rare days that he had absolutely nothing to do. He was off from the Buy More and wouldn't set foot in there or the Orange Orange unless he had to, and he had completed all necessary personal errands. Not that he had many. His needs were few.

Brightening, he remembered his little gift to himself which still had yet to be played with. Going to his weapons collection, he pulled out his newest acquisition and ran a hand lovingly over its gleaming silver surface. Vera. She wasn't as big as some of the others, but she was his personal pride and joy.

He glanced out the window and saw a familiar figure moving in Bartowski's place. Maybe Ellie would be a better name… No. Ellie wasn't right for something hard and cold, something dark and lethal. Ellie was for warmth and sunshine and bright laughter.

"Knock it off, John," he muttered to himself. "Next thing you know you're going to be like Bartowski and Walker, making calf eyes at each other and screwing up left and right because you can't keep your mind off her face and on business, like you're supposed to."

_Or talking to yourself_, he added mentally, grimacing.

Casey picked Vera up and packed her away, along with some ammo and tools to clean her. He knew he was off, but that didn't mean he couldn't make use of the facilities, specifically the live fire range.

He left his apartment and stopped when he saw Ellie Bartowski leaving hers at the same time. She crossed the courtyard when she saw him, giving him one of her bright, sunny smiles.

"Hi Casey," she greeted him, and he nodded a brisk hello. "You're not working today?"

He shook his head. "Buy More didn't need me today," he said, knowing he sounded like a half-wit and wondering why that bothered him so much.

She rolled her eyes. "That place, I swear," she complained as they fell into step. "Chuck and Morgan seem content to spend the rest of their lives there. You're never around, so I imagine you work as much or more than they do."

Casey raised one eyebrow. "You track how often I'm home?"

Ellie's eyes widened and she blushed, just a tiny tint of pink in her cheeks. "Not really. It's just so noticeable, your place is dark every time I come or go," she explained. "And it's obvious when your light comes on so late at night. My bedroom looks over the courtyard," she added.

Yeah, he knew that. His bedroom looked over the courtyard, too. And her bedroom.

Changing the subject, Ellie pointed at the case he was carrying. "What's that?"

He hesitated. "Vera," he said reluctantly.

Ellie brightened with interest. "Vera?" she asked curiously. "What's a Vera?"

Casey opened the case without saying a word, his eyes never leaving hers, trying to gauge her reaction. Ellie's eyes widened again as she saw the gun in all its cushioned glory. "Wow. It's, um. Wow," she finished lamely.

He shrugged. "Just going to shoot a few tin cans," he lied, then cringed inwardly. What sane person would look at a sophisticated piece of weaponry like that and think it was meant for tin cans?

She nodded. "Sounds like fun," she offered with a weak smile.

Casey stared at her. She had no clue what kind of firepower she was looking at. Instead of annoying him, he found it kind of charming. In his line of work, he met very few women who didn't know a gun inside and out.

By that time they'd reached his car, and they stopped. He looked at her awkwardly and she offered him another of her special, sweet little "Ellie" smiles. "It was nice talking to you again, Casey," she said.

Without thinking, he corrected her. "John."

Ellie looked puzzled. "John?"

He nearly flushed. "It's my name. John Casey. My coworkers call me Casey. You're not a coworker."

She beamed. "Then maybe we can be friends. After all, if you and Chuck are friends, you're part of the family."

Casey started to object to her classification of his relationship to Bartowski, then paused. It would be easier to maintain their cover if she thought they were friends. Besides, he kind of thought it might be nice to be part of her family.

He gave her one of his rare smiles. "Maybe we can."


End file.
